


Lost Boys, a sort of prologue

by pocketsizedtitan



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Community: snkkink, M/M, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, and his plight going ignored by eren, child!levi, child!mikasa, jean being cockblocked by little demons, story of his life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 13:09:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1133029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocketsizedtitan/pseuds/pocketsizedtitan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>fill for snkkink prompt.</p><p>Jean can’t have a moment alone with Eren, not if Mikasa and Levi can help it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost Boys, a sort of prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for [snkkink prompt](http://snkkink.dreamwidth.org/3666.html?thread=6332498). Also posted via [tumblr](http://pocketsizedtitan.tumblr.com/post/73093068655/lost-boys-a-sort-of-prologue). 
> 
> supposed to have turned this into a multichaptered fic, but probably won't anymore @_@

When Jean took in orphans Levi and Eren, what he hadn’t taken into account was the emotional torment. Seriously. If the devil incarnate – under guise of a six-year-old boy with overprotective tendencies – lived beneath  _your_ apartment roof, you’d fear for your life, too.

“Can you  _not_ do that?” Jean wheezed, hand clutched over his heart because said devil incarnate was standing five feet away from the front door, emotionless eyes staring him down; impressive, really, considering Jean was three and a half feet taller than him.

“Do what?” The devil spawn’s voice was as monotone and empty as his expression. Jean did his best to hide the shudder that stiffened his spine.

“Don’t just stand there when I’m coming home,” Jean said. Okay, so out loud that sounded ridiculous, but if you walked into your own home and a demon child was right  _there_  – yeah. Exactly. He kicked his shoes off.

“What’s wrong with standing here?”

Now he was being a sarcastic piece of shit, just without the sarcasm in his voice. Jean grit his teeth, huffily tossing his jacket into the coat closet and dumping his backpack against the foyer wall, griping, “Nothing. Just don’t do it. It’s creepy.”

“Eren’s going to kill you if you leave your stuff there,”  _so-keep-your-stuff-there-so-I-can-celebrate-your-demise_  was all too obvious in the little monster’s gaze. Jean rolled his eyes but rethought his actions and picked his bag back up. As if he was going to let Levi have his way. Eren did that enough.

“Where is Eren anyway?”

“He’s in the kitchen making dinner.” Levi lost interest in Jean as he wandered into the living room, “Mikasa is—“ he started to say, but Jean was gone. Oh well. Normally Levi would chase after him (like heck he’d leave Jean alone with Eren), but there wasn’t a pressing need to knowing that Eren wasn’t already alone.

He had a pact with Mikasa after all.

* * *

“Oi, Eren.”

“Hey, Jean.”

Introducing emotional torment number one, number two being the so-called child who was actually a devil but everyone refused to see it. Only Jean Kirschtein knew the truth about Levi. There was another truth that Jean kept to himself under lock and key, caged in the deepest parts of his heart, depriving it of sunlight in hopes that it would die out because Eren Jaeger was standing at the oven in a ridiculous, pink apron. The sizzle of something delicious being fried in a pan was loud in the kitchen and it hadn’t occurred to Jean how ravenous he was until that moment.

Sometimes that truth broke free. Sometimes Jean was too tired, too hungry to fight it and boy was the kitchen small because when was he suddenly  _right behind Eren?_ He wasn’t sure if he was in need of food or the boy –  _boyboyboybOY_ – as he caged Eren between his arms, hands gripping the handle of the oven door, lips close to a cute ear – it wasn’t fair how everything about this stupid teenager was adorable – starving, so starving, “What’s for dinner?”

His voice could have done without the sexual undertone; could have done without the brittle quality or the close proximity but he was always so aware of Eren and Eren was always so aware of him if the way he tensed was any indication, or the pretty little flush on his cheeks and the way he tried to turn away from the salivating mouth or how he tried to shyly hide his eyes beneath the brown mop he called his hair or—“Chicken stir fry.”

It smelled good, but Jean was craving something more raw, “I’m not really hungry for food.”

“It’s not just for you. I’m hungry and so is Levi and,“ Eren jumped as fingers slipped beneath his apron, hands hot even through the fabric of his shirt, “Hey, asshole! The children—“

“Who cares,” Jean muttered, the shell of an ear between his teeth. He was tired of children; it was always about children and Jean wanted it to be about Eren’s muffled groan and the nipple he pinched and rolled through fabric and the arch in a back as that perky ass pressed against his crotch and, wait, Jean froze, “Child- _ren_?”

That could only mean one thing.

“Stop hurting Eren, you bastard.”

Introducing emotional torment number three, who was actually close to number two but number two came first and while Levi scared Jean in a creepy-kind-of-way, this six-year-old girl scared Jean in the way one feared being murdered. “Mikasa. What are you doing here?”

“Keeping Eren safe,”  _from you_ going unsaid. Eren elbowed Jean away, who took a reluctant step back in order to stare warily at the girl. He didn’t know when her affection for Eren started; maybe it was from the times he’d stop by Levi’s school to pick up his adopted brother, but she was as attached to the teenager as Levi was. It was scary, honestly. And irritating.

Irritating because he couldn’t have a moment alone with Eren without these two monsters getting in the way.

“Eren, Mikasa has a knife.”

“Mikasa, put the knife away.”

“Shouldn’t you be a little more concerned?”

Eren shrugged as he turned the heat down to a simmer. “I trust Mikasa and Levi with sharp objects more than I trust you with one.”

“Wh-what’s that supposed to mean?”

He wiped his hands against his apron, shooting Jean a pointed look, “Remember that time you ran with scissors when I told you not to and you—“

“Okay, okay. Let’s not bring that up, please.”

“Hmph,” Mikasa smirked in triumph – Operation: Keep Horseface Away From Eren a success, a small victory in the ongoing war – as she dragged a chair over to the counter, climbed on to it and slid the knife back into the holder. “You’re such a child.”

“Says the one who has to climb a chair to reach the counter!”

“Are you really arguing with a six-year-old, Jean?”

Jean pursed his lips and crossed his arms, sulking. Even when their devilish ways were right in front of his face, Eren somehow turned a blind eye to it and always took their side. “She started it.”

“Sometimes I think our ages should be reversed,” Mikasa said. It was aggravating how both her and Levi acted older and made him feel younger, made him feel like the immature one. They didn’t have to try very hard, either.

“Me, too.” Eren nodded, much to Jean’s chagrin.

As the air in the kitchen seemed to get colder – Jean’s senses were tingling – he knew the night was only going to get worse, especially now that Levi joined them in the kitchen. It was never good (for him) when those two joined forces.

Eren removed his apron with a smile, “Well, dinner’s ready.”

* * *

“J-Jean…”

It amazed him how that mouth could spout insults one moment and then breathe in the neediest way. It was intoxicating. If Jean wasn’t so worried about waking up the rugrats in the other room (rather than going home, Mikasa chose to spend the night), he’d try to pull out louder cries, but he didn’t want to be interrupted  _again_.

“The kids,” Eren murmured without much conviction. His fingers tightened in blond hair as a tongue swirled around a nipple, warm and wet. He tugged Jean’s face closer to his chest, lips enclosing around that nipple, a harsh suckle drawing a groan from Eren.

Sixteen going on seventeen, Jean reminded himself. He wouldn’t take it all the way but it was hard to hold back when Eren was so receptive and vocal and needy and panting. God, Jean could only imagine how Eren would be when he’s being fucked into the mattress and the thought had Jean’s already hard cock twitching. Patience was a virtue neither of thi had, so they indulged themselves in other ways. Jean may be impatient, but he wasn’t  _that_ impatient where he’d push Eren too far while he was too young.

Jean dragged his mouth away from Eren’s nipple, assailing the tanned skin with nips of his teeth and flicks of his tongue. He made his way across the small concave of a chest, the other nipple his destination. His hands ascended the bare thighs pressed on either sides of his torso, Eren’s boxers bunched high up against his waist as his erection dug into Jean’s stomach.

“Damn it, Jean,” Eren breathed, hips bucking up when teeth tugged at his nipple. He grabbed Jean’s shoulders, nails breaking skin, “Can you just – _ah!_ – hurr – y – hurr _yngh_ —“

Eren was just about ready to flip Jean over because the guy wouldn’t stop playing with his nipple and rubbing teasing circles against his hip bone. He was just about ready to drive Jean crazy instead to give him a taste of his own medicine; just about ready to throw Jean off the bed if he had to, but Jean started to kiss a burning path down his stomach. An anticipatory shiver made Eren’s toes curl, knees falling away and waist coming off the bed the further down Jean got. He was so close, so, so clo— _knock, knock._

Jean growled, “Ignore it.”

_Knock, knock._

Eren sighed, disappointment making him sink back against the bed. “Sorry, Jean. I can’t ignore the kids.”

“Yes you can,” and to prove his point, Jean started to tug Eren’s boxers down but a  _hey!_ and a well-aimed kick that sent him flying off the bed prevented him from doing so, “Ow, shit. Was that necessary?”

Eren hopped into sweats and pulled on a shirt, throwing one at Jean to put on as he made his way to the door – little knocks still sounding insistent from the other side – before opening it. Levi and Mikasa looked up at him, the perfect picture of innocence. He smiled, “Couldn’t sleep?”

“No,” Mikasa said, “we want to sleep with Eren.”

“Sleep in your own bed,” Jean could be heard in the background, voice muffled as his head disappeared in his shirt.

“If you don’t mind sharing a bed with Jean and I, you can sleep here,” Eren said, everyone ignoring Jean. Story of his life.

And that was how, an hour later, Jean found himself staring up at the ceiling with two hellish fiends sleeping between him and Eren, all three snoring peacefully away while he lamented his situation. His life had been perfectly peaceful prior to Levi and Eren coming into his life. Now he had to deal with two demons he wanted to strangle before they killed him, and a teenager who made him want to throw all of his morals out the window.  _Pft. What morals?_

Jean sighed, wincing as a small foot kicked his jaw – how the hell did Levi manage to move upside down? He rolled onto his side, spotting sleepy, green-blue eyes peering at him through the dark. Eren smiled from over Mikasa’s head, gentle and tender and so worth everything.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad having his world turned into a state as hazardous as Levi’s sleeping habits, Jean thought.

(That didn’t change the fact that he wanted to murder the devil child, especially after waking up with a bruised eye.)

**end.**


End file.
